The little desk that could

We get to determine our value and reap the rewards

Hello you!

Can you guess the first question I asked him? I’m talking about my father of course, when we finally connected 32 years after I was born. Until this point I had no phone number, no address, no social media contact - only a few photos from the 80s and a name. There were three questions actually but one in particular stands out. First I asked where were you? Second I asked why didn’t you love me? and third I asked what did I do wrong? This is the question that stands out. Fast forward two years and my heart breaks when I think of how vulnerable I was at this moment in time, how full of shame and tragically hope. I had no idea how much I’d internalised his absence as being my fault, but the emphasis on what I’d done wrong in my question said it all.

For the next two years I became locked in a crippling dance for his love and approval, the thing I’d wanted more than anything in the world. I pirouetted, leapt and plied again and again until my feet bled - but you can’t make someone who isn’t capable of love give you the love you deserve, the love you’re entitled to. Trust me I’d know. I’ve tried. The more I danced the more of myself I lost and the more worthless I felt. There was no end to the well I found myself falling down.